


An Artist's Eccentricies

by Sakiku



Series: Sunny O'Keeffe [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Artists, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Handcuffs, Multi, Other, Power Play, Sticky Equipment, Sticky Sex, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakiku/pseuds/Sakiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunstreaker plus boredom equals mayhem. On an unsanctioned excursion from the outpost they have been stationed in, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe happen upon a Decepticon. Too bad that Soundwave is one of the few mechs Sunstreaker hasn’t painted yet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Artist's Eccentricies

The third time Sunstreaker threw his empty energon cube into a corner with an aggravated growl, and then stood to gather it and throw it into another corner, Sideswipe decided it was time to step in.

“What's the matter?”

“I'm stuck in a fragging outpost with some boring bots that don't know a polishing rag from a floor wiper!” the yellow twin snarled. “And I have to patrol the fragging Metal Plains for the next three decaorns! There's nothing out there but metal, sand, and more metal!”

Sideswipe rolled his optics. He knew that he wasn’t a member of the ‘boring bots’, but of the patrol he sadly was. If Sunstreaker was this pissed-off already after spending less than an orn here, he was going to be a downright glitch to actually do the patrol with. “Why don't you start on a new painting?” he suggested, one of the sure-fire ways to distract his twin. “You've got your supplies in subspace, and anyways, I've seen you do some awesome things with every-day items.”

The one instance when Sunstreaker had recreated a three-dimensional model of Prowl's spike with nothing but some wires, a piece of metal-mesh, and some congealed and hardened energon treats, had been epic. Both for the look on Prime's face – they had installed it in his quarters – and the punishment afterwards. He was never going to look at cleaning drones the same way again.

Sunstreaker growled, definitely not assuaged by Sideswipe’s suggestion. “What am I supposed to paint? The third picture of your valve as the Well of All Sparks? The tenth of Prime's spike as a Vosian spire? The fifth of Ironhide's as a natural metal formation? I have done _everyone_ already!”

Really? Sideswipe refocused his optics. “There's got to be some Autobot that you haven't.”

“Except for that yellow minibot, no.”

Sideswipe twitched in surprise. “Bumblebee? He doesn't even have interfacing hardware yet.”

“Exactly! Any other brilliant suggestions?” Sunstreaker growled. Without interfacing equipment, a mech just held no value as an art model.

Sideswipe thought for a while, then gave up and resorted to the other fail-safe way of distracting his twin. “Want to go racing? Burn off some of the energy, and then a hard interface after that?”

Racing would probably get them into trouble with Prowl as soon as he caught wind of it. But it was better than whatever else Sideswipe could come up with, because violence was an even bigger no-no.

Sunstreaker didn't answer. Instead he got up and walked towards the door and revved his engine grumpily. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

\---

It had been no problem to sneak out of the outpost without anyone noticing. Neither Prowl nor Red Alert were stationed there, and no other bot had ever detected them when they didn't want to be found. Not when Sideswipe was good enough to program an artificial intelligence that could answer their com frequencies while they were away.

Racing on the Great Metal Plains that stretched from the outpost all the way back to Iacon, was an experience in and of itself. Contrary to their name, the plains weren't all that plain. Instead, they were littered with cracks and odd metal formations that had grown over the course of thousands of vorns. It was more an exercise of 'who could dodge the most pillars without ripping their bottom plating on the treacherous ground spikes' instead of flat-out racing, and it did some seriously funky things with electromagnetics. That was the major reason for the artificial intelligence -- out here in the multitude of metallic trenches and spires and crystal formations, it would be a fragging miracle if they heard their coms at all.

Both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were having fun though. That is, until Sunstreaker scratched his undercarriage on the tenth metal formation in a row and decided that enough was enough. With a decisive flip he jumped back into root mode. “I'm sick and tired of those fragging wastelands!” he bellowed.

Actually, Sideswipe had wondered how long it would take his twin to get fed up. Sunstreaker had held out a good three breems longer than he had expected. Time for the second part of the distraction then. “Well, what about fragging _in_ those wastelands?” Sideswipe grinned, his interface panel heating already at the thought. “I'd say that we've still got almost ten joor before they try to override our door codes to check if we've really been inside the entire time.” Eventually, the AI would fail to give a proper answer to a question. Until then, they were home-free though.

“Well, why don't you shut up and actually do something?” Sunstreaker was still in a bad mood and not hesitant to let anyone know it.

Thankfully Sideswipe had far more practice than healthy in dealing with his twin. He just shook off the bad mood and pushed his arousal through the bond. Sauntering up to Sunstreaker, he dropped unhesitatingly to his knees before the mech, and started running his dentae along Sunstreaker's interface panel. It normally was the quickest way to arouse him and get him into a better mood.

Having Sunstreaker suddenly tense and shush him across their bond, was not amongst the expected reactions.

Sideswipe froze. ~What is it?~ he asked back, making sure only to speak across the bond and not over coms or out loud.

~I think someone’s coming!~

They almost heard the approaching engine too late. The fragging fractal geometries of the place had conspired against them and bounced the sound -- and the electromagnetics -- away from them. Hopefully, it had also worked to hide them instead of broadcasting their location for all and sundry.

They barely managed to reach cover behind the next metal pillar and still their fields before they were discovered.

~Who's that? Someone they sent to track us down?~ Sideswipe whispered over their bond. ~Can't believe they've found my Artificial Mediocre Intelligence already!~

Sunstreaker nearly scoffed. ~They fall for your AMI every single time. Think something's happened at the outpost?~

The mech the engine belonged to didn't seem to be in a hurry though. Instead, he was idling along, as if he was searching for something. Them? Sideswipe dared take a quick look, and almost gave them away in his surprise. ~Scrap, it's Soundwave. What the frag is he doing here?~ He quickly ducked again. ~Think he's been following our tracks? Also, we haven't been quiet in any way. If anyone’s got com reception in this mess, it’ll be him.~

This was becoming more and more dangerous. From the looks and the sound of it, Soundwave was alone. But it was very rare for the Decepticon carrier to be unescorted, and even rarer for him not to have any of his pests out scouting for him. Sideswipe was so not looking forward to discovering that those invisible escorts were quite real and waiting just around the corner to capture them.

Contrary to Sideswipe’s dismay, his twin had an entirely different reaction. ~Let's find out why he's here,~ Sunstreaker said eagerly.

Sideswipe wanted to groan. Yeah, sure, he had wanted Sunstreaker distracted from his boredom, but _not like that_! With the excitement he felt flooding their bond, it was going to be pretty much impossible to convince his twin to get out of there.

Without waiting for Sideswipe, Sunstreaker quietly followed the Decepticon, keeping low to the ground and always hiding himself out of sight. The Great Metal Plains made that easy with the amount of irregular metal growth, probably the only reason why Soundwave hadn't spotted them yet. The funny things it did to coms and other sensors, helped with the rest.

Cursing, Sideswipe went after his twin. Together, they had at least twice the chance of getting out if they ran into an ambush.

It took nearly two breem for Sideswipe to catch up, and that was only because Sunstreaker had stopped. Well, at least they could be reasonably certain now that nobody else was around, and that Soundwave hadn’t spotted them yet. Which was a bit suspicious in and of itself - it was just too much coincidence for them to just _happen_ across the Decepticon telepath without him noticing them.

But Sunstreaker didn’t seem to care. He was crouched behind a bristling pillar, his optics locked onto a formation that looked like it had been created by several of those metal pillars growing together over the centuries. From what he could see from the ground, its top looked to be pretty flat, unusual for the irregular crystalline growth.

And Sunstreaker was fairly vibrating with excitement. ~He's not moving anymore. Behind that wall. I'm going to see what he's up to.~

Before Sideswipe could protest, his twin was already gone again.

Completely silent and holding his fields utterly still, Sunstreaker climbed the massive metal protrusion. Believable or not, he had learned that trick from observing Prowl. That mech had come by his designation definitely not on accident. The way the tactician could blend into the environment not by pulling his fields in but by holding them still, was eerie.

Thankfully, it seemed to work on Soundwave, too. The telepath showed no signs of knowing he was being observed.

~What's he doing?~ Sideswipe asked, glyphs lined with tension.

Carefully, Sunstreaker peeked over the edge. Soundwave... wasn't doing much of anything. He was almost right beneath Sunstreaker and had a couple parts strewn around him, some of them communications hardware, some of them not. But instead of assembling them, Soundwave was fidgeting with the one in his hands.

~Setting up some kind of spy outpost, I guess,~ Sunstreaker sent back. ~He's alone, looks like all his little fraggers are docked. I've got enough adhesive tape in my subspace.~

It said something about the countless vorns they had planned pranks together that Sideswipe caught on immediately. ~You don't have him in your collection yet, do you?~ the red twin groaned as it sunk in just what Sunstreaker's excitement had been all about.

~No. And I know that you still have those stasis cuffs in your subspace.~

This was so not a good idea. ~You think that's enough for someone like him?~

~With the two of us? You bet it is!~ Anticipation was rising high in Sunstreaker. He was itching to jump the Decepticon, but even he knew that without Sideswipe firmly on boat it would be fairly suicidal.

Sideswipe hesitated for several moments, but then his twin’s excitement overwhelmed him. ~You're going to owe me so much for that.~

There wasn't much planning between the two of them. There wasn't much needed because there was only one viable option.

As soon as Sideswipe was in position just around the corner of the pillar-wall Sunstreaker was perched on, he gave the go. With nothing to hear but a slight hiss of hydraulics, the yellow twin let himself drop down right on top of Soundwave. Prowl would have been damn proud of him. He managed to completely surprise the mech. He hit the telepath's helmet first with one of his knees, riding him into the ground and stunning him for the precious split-seconds that Sideswipe needed to round the curve and join the fray.

It turned out that snapping the stasis cuffs on had been the easy part, even though they now had the mech down flat on his back. Soundwave regained his faculties frighteningly fast and was struggling so much that it was nearly impossible to restrain him further, even with twice as many limbs as the single mech.

“Hold him down,” Sunstreaker snarled as he continued taping Soundwave's chest plates shut. None of the little pests were going to come out if he had a say. It would prevent many transformation attempts, too, especially those pesky tentacles that could hack a mech quicker than he could think.

“I'm trying!” Sideswipe growled and threw more of his weight onto Soundwave's legs. The communications officer was writhing so much that he nearly dislodged them both, despite the way his servos were caught in stasis cuffs.

Just as Sunstreaker finished placing the last of the adhesive tape, there came a rush of panic from Sideswipe's half of the bond. ~He's trying to get into my processors!~

Reacting on instinct, Sunstreaker's energon blade shot out and laid across Soundwave's throat. “Let him go if you want to keep functioning!”

The telepath simply looked up at him with those creepy red optics. “Twins: not authorized to be here.”

“Get out of his processors!” he snarled.

“Ill-considered actions: no thoughts of ensuring compliance after capture.”

The blade started biting into the neck cabling, charring the metal an ugly black. “I said GET OUT!” Sunstreaker bellowed.

“Negative. Soundwave: is needed by Decepticons. Soundwave: cannot let himself be captured. Leverage: needed.”

This was going down the drain quickly. Sideswipe was completely distracted by trying to fend off the processor attack, and if things continued like that they'd have a Very Ugly Incident on their servos instead of the willing -- or not-so-willing -- model he had wanted. “Let's make a deal,” he ground out, trying to judge whether Soundwave would be amenable to some negotiations. Even if it stung his pride to not be able to lord his skills over the telepath and just take whatever he wanted. “You know that I'm an artist, and just what I'm famous for. We won’t harm you if you let me measure your interface panel for a painting.”

Soundwave stilled. To Sunstreaker's inordinate relief, the attack on Sideswipe's processors halted, too. “Query: reason for sudden interest.”

“What's it to you? I'm in a creative mood, and that shouldn't be wasted.” Slowly he lifted his energon blade so that he wasn't burning Soundwave's plating anymore. He wasn’t stupid though - the edge was still less than a quinch away, and Sunstreaker could probably behead the telepath before he could finish hacking Sides. Probably.

“Correction. True motivation: thrill-seeking, escape from boredom.”

Sunstreaker ground his dentae. “You keep your creepy telepathy to yourself, and I'll throw in one of the best fraggin' overloads you ever had.”

“Negative. Current offer: due to measurement methods, no extra efforts needed for achieving overload. Counterproposal: reproduction of Prime Housing desired.”

Well, at least Soundwave considered the idea of having his interface star in one of Sunstreaker's erotic paintings a valid option. He suppressed another snarl.

Despite still having the communicator hovering at the edge of his firewalls, Sideswipe chuckled. He tightened his grip on Soundwave's legs although the mech hadn't struggled since their negotiations had started. A very unstable stalemate. “He's got you there, Sunny.”

None of Sunstreaker's art models had ever left unsatisfied. It was part of the rep he had going on. The golden twin scowled. But to use that to wheedle more out of their deal? Sure, he had saved high-resolution stills of all his paintings. However, he absolutely detested making simple reproductions of what he had already painted once. He was an artist, not a copyist.

Prime Housing was admittedly one of his best works, a carefully crafted representation of the temple at Simfur where he had used cleverly placed shadows, mechs, and doorways to reflect an impression of both the Prime's valve and his spike into the architecture. He _had_ exaggerated a bit with the holy light of the Allspark that shone from the entrance portal that doubled as the valve rim, but Prime's electromagnetics had been pretty fragging incredible. And the glyphs he had etched into every available surface of the temple were small excerpts from Prime's pleasure-code – stunning packages of sensory data that could bring a mech to overload simply from reading them long enough. Experiencing them firsthand had been... Well, he definitely wouldn't say no to a repeat performance. Interestingly enough, they weren't all too different from the glyphs of worship on the real temple. It had lent the entire interface an air of sacred communion even as the Prime had trembled beneath him right on the edge of overload as Sunstreaker made sure to capture every last detail of his spike.

For Soundwave to demand a copy of Prime Housing, someone on the Decepticon side had to want it pretty badly. Because Sunstreaker knew for a fact that Soundwave was already in possession of one of the few existing reproductions. Sunstreaker's bet was on Megatron – or Megatron had seized Soundwave's copy and Soundwave didn't want to go without one of his own.

“No deal.” During bartering, it was always good to check out just how badly the other mech wanted something. And he could not stand to let himself be bested by Soundwave. “If you don't go around snooping in our minds, we'll let you go afterwards and not hand you over to the Autobots, since the Decepticons need you so much. For Prime Housing, you gotta give me something better than that.”

There was tense silence. Sunstreaker was on hair's trigger, waiting for a reaction – any reaction. Should Soundwave attack Sideswipe's processors again, the telepath was a dead mech, no matter how long they'd have to listen to Prime's “I'm sorely disappointed in you” speech afterwards.

“Offering: full measurements,” Soundwave finally said.

Sunstreaker relaxed a bit. Well, now, that was some incentive at least. It also meant that the painting was important enough for the telepath to commit to some real negotiating.

Doing a full work-up was quite a step above and beyond what Sunstreaker had intended. Usually, he just got down to inspecting the equipment visually and with his digits, and employed his special mods the best he could while not disturbing a normal interfacing practice of either spiking or being spiked.

Doing full measurements though... heh, the amount of detail provided by that made for the best paintings. Without it, Prime Housing wouldn't have been half as good.

A grin stole itself onto his facial plates. “You know what that entails, don't you? I'll skip the hard-line, in both our interest, but you'll have to let me have free reign over your interface panel. If you go through with your end, you'll get your copy.”

“Agreed.”

“Are you done yet?” Sideswipe whined from where he was crouched over Soundwave's legs, ready to tighten his grip again should it be necessary. Over their bond, Sunstreaker could feel that he was far less impatient than he pretended; however Sideswipe was rather interested in seeing their negotiations end before Soundwave got any clever ideas or something else happened.

Thankfully, it seemed that the telepath was of a similar opinion or liked being agreeable for a change. “Contract, final draft. Obligations Soundwave: shut down telepathy, allow full measurements to be taken. Obligations Sunstreaker, Sideswipe: no injuries, let go afterwards, reproduction of Prime Housing.”

The version he sent over com – and it was somewhat nervewracking to know that Soundwave of all mechs had their personal com frequencies – contained a more verbose draft, and what exactly would happen should certain obligations not be fulfilled. But otherwise it was a very simple and straight-forward contract.

“Deal,” he agreed as soon as Sideswipe’s acceptance came over the bond.

“Deal: accepted.”

Relieved, Sunstreaker retracted his blades and disengaged his combat mode. Were Soundwave's arms not restrained by stasis cuffs, they would have shaken on it. Contrary to many Decepticons, Soundwave could be trusted to keep his end of the bargain. At least as long as Soundwave was getting what he wanted.

As it was, Sunstreaker got off the telepath's mid-section and turned his attention downwards. Sideswipe, too, got up and went for Soundwave's bound wrists. Instead of removing the cuffs though, he took a hold of them and used them to drag the telepath's arms above his helmet. There he settled, out of the way, but keeping a good grip on them against the floor.

Sunstreaker sent a questioning ping through their connection, but Sideswipe put him off with a vague feeling of experimental curiosity. Since Soundwave didn't protest, he let it go. Better to have the mech restrained, anyway. Less chance of something going wrong.

“Now, let's see what you've got.” Without any foreplay, Sunstreaker manually released the hatch of Soundwave's interface panel and was pleased that the mech didn't fight him.

The unpressurized spike was retracted in its internal protective tubing so that only the tip with the transfluid opening was visible. On a visual inspection, Sunstreaker could detect a microfilament-ladden surface that began right at the rim of the transfluid line. The dry valve beneath seemed to be covered with the same microfilaments.

Interesting choice for material. How far did they go? The varying colors, of the spike at least, could mean varying microfilament types. From what he could see, it was covered in chaotic but tasteful patterns that ranged from a pale lilac over a cyan blue to a dark marine. Compared to that, the uniform bluish silver of the valve was boring.

He wondered. Was it only bonding microfilaments – highly sensitive on their own and would probably create some pretty intense sensations when they tried to attach themselves to an invading spike or a surrounding valve – or were there sensor filaments included, too? Unshielded as they were, they'd probably send charge straight into the neural net at the slightest hint of electromagnetic fields.

Absently, he took one of his soft-bristled paint brushes from subspace. He never went without at least some of his equipment. Normally he would use it to put medium thick strokes of color onto a canvas, but it would also make a handy instrument for testing sensitivity. Not to mention that he had extensive practice at handling the tool with considerable dexterity.

The spike gave no reaction when he prodded its tip with the bristles, the only part not inside the housing.

Boring.

A light swipe along the valve entrance though had the calipers clench. Better. The visual effect was enhanced by the way the microscopically thin fibers took some time to return to their upright position after the brush was gone. Combined with the slightly uninspired silverish-blue color, it gave the impression of dragging a digit across a sea of excited mercury. Or rather it would, once Soundwave's lubrication system was fully engaged and covered the filaments with a smooth surface. For now the valve was still dry and the individual fibers could be seen clinging to the static of the brush.

On the edge of his attention, he was aware of Sideswipe watching him study Soundwave's interface equipment, amusement lining his fields. Just what was so amusing, he didn't know. He didn't care, either, because there was art to be done.

A systematic exploration further inside, as far as the brush could reach, revealed similar reactions of clenching valve calipers and rippling fibers. Either Soundwave was very sensitive, or the microfilaments went all the way. However, he could not quite distinguish whether there were only bonding filaments, or also sensory ones. Because beyond the automatic valve clenching, Soundwave didn't show any reactions.

When Sunstreaker finally pulled the brush out, he could see the first glistening residue of valve lubricant collected on the bristles. Interesting. Soundwave's fields didn't contain any notable arousal, but his valve was already starting to lubricate. A coded response to prevent rape from doing as much damage? Not that he planned on raping Soundwave – the mech would be fully willing and eager for it by the time Sunstreaker proceeded to the intimate measuring. It was part of his reputation. And anyway, it had been Soundwave's idea to go for the full measurement package.

He gathered a bit more lubricant onto the brush and then smeared it onto the still dry fibers at the rim.

To his surprise the result wasn't the mercury-like surface of smoothed-down microfilaments he had anticipated. Instead capillary forces dragged the lubricant to the roots of the fibers, leaving their tips dry and free to tangle with the bristles of his brush. Like nylon reeds in a basic sea. It combined the reduced friction of a liquid cushion with the armor-bonding closeness of microfilaments.

Nice. Very nice.

“Extend your spike,” he commanded absentmindedly, gathering more lubricant onto the brush and waiting to try the same experiment on the other source of microfilaments.

“Cooperation: not required.”

What? Sunstreaker growled, to the amusement of his twin. “That's not what the contract says! If you want your Prime Housing, you better damn well do what I tell you to!”

There was not a flicker in Soundwave's fields. “Cooperation: not required,” he merely repeated himself, and the spike remained in its housing.

More amusement from Sideswipe washed across Sunstreaker's spark, and made him look up. There was a broad grin across his twin's facial plates, crouched at Soundwave's helmet as he was. He had been able to ignore Sideswipe the first time, but enough was enough.

~What!?~

Sideswipe just grinned broader. ~Watch.~

And he leaned some weight onto the bound wrist assemblies he was holding down. Again, there was not a single twitch from Soundwave's fields. However, interestingly enough, his plates jerked a tiny bit as if they were... loosening?

Sunstreaker looked back up at Sideswipe, who just nodded with a slag-eating grin and a rev of his engine. Sunstreaker could feel his bad mood evaporate like alcohol in a forge, both from the revelation and the lust spilling across the bond.

Well, well, well. Was Soundwave getting _off_ on being bound, on them _forcing_ him to comply? Sunstreaker wouldn't have caught it on his own, but Sideswipe had a great talent for spotting that kind of mech. If he thought about it, it really did make some sense. Soundwave had agreed to the painting part suspiciously fast, and he hadn’t made any demands of them releasing him.

Sideswipe's slag-eating grin threatened to spread to Sunstreaker's fields. That kind of information was just too good. Definitely good enough to play along. It was going to be _fun_ to tease Soundwave until his spike extended on base protocols alone. Just for that, he was getting the Prime Housing replica after all.

Sunstreaker collected himself again, and sneered. “Alright, if that's the way you want to do it,” he turned the brush around so that he could poke the retracted spike with the thin tip of the other end, “then don't start complaining if you don't like my methods.”

The back end was just thin enough to slip into the opening of the transfluid line, and Sunstreaker made good use of that. Soundwave froze satisfyingly, optics lighting up a bright red.

“Wish you had obeyed already?” he smirked.

The telepath said nothing, just kept his focus on Sunstreaker's optics and tensed the hydraulics in his arms. With an intense look like that, Sunstreaker would normally worry about the impending hack. But Soundwave had agreed to leave their thoughts alone, and he seemed to be keeping to it because there was no tell-tale presence of the telepath in his processors. Prime Housing had to be pretty damn important to him.

Sunstreaker pushed the brush a bit further in. The tensing became more visible.

Ah, now Sunstreaker had him.

With his other hand he dragged the back of his claws through the microfilaments of Soundwave's valve, so lightly that he never touched the protometal beneath. The brush though stayed where it was. Soundwave twitched. Sunstreaker wondered just how far the telepath would let him go before stopping it, because that had absolutely no part in taking measurements.

With a sly grin, he dipped the brush in and out of the transfluid line, mimicking what he was doing with his claws in Soundwave's valve. His optics were locked on Soundwave’s, daring the mech to say something.

Soundwave remained silent, unmoved.

After a while, Sideswipe picked up on the rhythm and squeezed Soundwave's wrists in tandem. That got a bit more of a reaction as Soundwave's frame picked up on it, too, starting to rock into the friction.

It was satisfying to see the first obvious signs of arousal, but that wouldn't do. “You know you will have to hold still, once I do the measurements.”

“Acknowledged.”

Soundwave made no move to stop, though.

Sunstreaker grumbled. At least the telepath’s spike was finally starting to extend. And Sunstreaker could always hold Prime Housing over him, should he need further cooperation.

He alternated between teasing the valve opening and running his claws along every new micron exposed. As he had thought, the spike was completely covered with microfilaments, the only interesting feature of an otherwise very boring shape. It was soft in a way he had felt from no other spike before, allowing for a nearly frictionless glide without lubrication already.

Soundwave’s fields finally began to grow little curls of pleasure, moreso than with valve stimulation alone. Either the telepath was a complete spike mech, or the spike growth was laced with more sensitive filaments than the valve.

Unable to contain his curiosity, he stopped tormenting the transfluid line with the hard end of his brush, and gathered up some more valve lubricant on its bristles. A light swipe across the spike filaments had Soundwave’s fields shiver, but no other reaction. The same nylon-reed effect happened, the patch of wet filaments only slightly darker than the rest of the psychedelic spike colors. However when Sunstreaker _touched_ the spot with a digit, Soundwave jolted so hard he nearly ripped his servos out of Sideswipe’s grip.

A repeat of the experiment brought the same reaction, a bit less this time as the telepath was prepared. Even with sensor filaments in place, the only explanation for such a strong reaction was...

“Your lubricant is a conductor?” Sunstreaker asked, barely able to restrain his excitement.

Soundwave’s “Affirmative” was nearly drowned out by static, since Sunstreaker had no intention of letting go of such a potent weapon.

Oh, the mech was going to be _fun_.

~Try your own lubricant,~ Sideswipe pinged him hungrily.

His twin’s presence was a constant in the back of his processors, at the other end of the bond. So physically close together and intent on the same thing, they were practically of the same mind. Sunstreaker had been more focused on his explorations, and Sideswipe on holding down _Soundwave_ of all mechs, watching Sunstreaker interact with the telepath.

But when Sunstreaker took the brush to his own valve, a white-hot rush of arousal spilled through the bond. Not able to contain the answering rev of his engine, Sunstreaker met Sideswipe’s optics and deliberately spread his legs so that his twin could at least get a good visual of the disappearing brush, maybe some hint of the grey rings of his valve opening.

Knowing his valve as he did (and surfing along on the voyeuristic pleasure of Sideswipe), it took less than a klik of stimulation to get himself lubricated enough to take a sample. Finally withdrawing the glistening bristles, he dabbed his own fluid onto another spot on Soundwave’s spike. Then he test-rubbed with the same servo still holding the brush.

The reaction wasn’t as satisfying as with Soundwave’s own lubricant, but it was still quite the jolt.

He played with it until the liquid was spread all around the tip of the telepath’s spike, and Soundwave’s cooling fans fully engaged. The tape around the mech’s chest made it impossible for the plates there to loosen, retaining even more heat than normal. Soundwave’s fields though were pretty clear that he absolutely didn’t mind a bit of overheating.

Once again, the mech had started to tug against the restraints in Sideswipe’s servos, more to feel them though instead of trying to get free. Sunstreaker could feel how much his twin liked being able to hold the telepath down, building up quite a charge of his own and also spilling it over to Sunstreaker.

He should get down to actually doing the measurements before either of them overloaded.

With a quick twist of his fields, the brush was back in subspace, and Soundwave’s fans whined most satisfyingly when Sunstreaker stopped stroking his spike.

“Work first, pleasure later,” the yellow twin smirked. “I think I’ll start with your spike first, and then your valve. And remember: no full measurements, no Prime Housing.”

“Reminder: not needed.” The telepath’s voice crackled with so much white noise that it was a miracle his vocalizer was working at all.

Sideswipe chuckled, bending forward so that he could lean into Soundwave’s field of vision from above. And if that move placed more weight onto the communicator’s bound wrists, that was sheer coincidence. “Just humor him, ‘Wave. With as much charge as you’re running, most mechs would have forgotten everything including their designation.”

Soundwave fields spoke very clearly of what the mech thought of that.

Not giving the telepath any chance to answer, Sunstreaker straddled his hips. He guided the fully engorged spike towards his opening, but didn’t take it inside yet. Not because of a lack of preparation though. The penetration would be slow enough that size adjustments could be done on the fly. And Soundwave wasn’t _that_ big.

Sunstreaker had already started up the scanning program which diverted some of his charge towards the imminent influx of data. He still didn’t move though.

“You need to hold still until you’re completely inside,” he told the telepath sternly. While he might joke around, Sunstreaker took his art seriously.

Soundwave acknowledged and froze except for the slight upping in his fans’ cooling speed. Only then did Sunstreaker start to lower himself in tiny increments.

Most of his processing space was taken up with the mix of being stretched open, and data. He had developed it into an artform, pleasing a spike while also taking its measurements. For the full package though, pleasure was secondary. Sunstreaker couldn’t afford to have his clenching calipers foul the result, or his processors preoccupied. Or the mech beneath him move.

He had to hand it to Soundwave though – the telepath had impressive self-control. Most other mechs would have already overloaded, with how much charge was burning in his lines. The electromagnetics of the scan had to be driving him wild, as close to his spike as they were and as much lubricant as was connecting them. But Soundwave was still going strong, still holding out with nothing to show beyond a few aborted twitches while Sunstreaker slowly, so very slowly slid down the spike.

Nice.

Had Soundwave not needed to be restrained, Sunstreaker might have perhaps let him play with the special scanning sensors first. They were what had made Sunstreaker's valve upgrade so expensive. They were set around the walls, slightly darker colored rings that started at the opening, and outlined the entire interior surface in a wire-mesh grid.

In their relaxed state, their wavy structure just hinted at how much the valve could give. At maximum stretch, the scanner rings would expand to an elliptic shape, and then they could still distend another thirty percent. Astrotrain had been a tight fit, but Sunstreaker had managed to get him inside.

The visual tunnel effect of his valve was enhanced by the way the space between the sensors had been filled by more concentric rings of different hues. Sunstreaker had insisted on a changing color gradient, starting off at the outside in soft shades of various iron alloys, while becoming a fiery color of melting steel further in. Simply looking at the opening gave the impression of concentric circles going inwards towards the core, advertising the heat there.

It was really a pity that Soundwave had to be restrained. Sunstreaker wouldn't have minded a bit of fingering. The sensor rings, there to measure the exact dimensions of any invading spike, were wonderfully sensitive towards manual stimulation.

Slowly he sank lower, reeling both from the data influx and the pleasant friction. It was only enhanced by the way Soundwave’s filaments were trying to bond with his valve lining. If it hadn’t felt so good, he would have given the telepath a piece of his mind for fouling up the scans. But the tiny fibers were autonomous, not something Soundwave could control, and Sunstreaker could come up with a filter to blot out that interference.

And, in case he hadn’t mentioned it yet - they felt great. Good thing he had Sideswipe to shunt some of his charge to, because overloading before the scan was done wasn’t going to help anyone.

When his panel finally met Soundwave’s platings, Sunstreaker’s fans were turning hard. That was nothing compared to the telepath though, whose fields were a micron from exploding. And he kept holding still.

Sunstreaker smirked. ~How long do you think it’ll take him to realize that he can move now?~ he pinged Sideswipe.

His twin snorted, also running hot with the spilled charge. ~As far gone as he is? Don’t know what he’s done to his motion control to be able to _not_ move. Probably hard-locked his gyros, or something. But if I’m reading him right, he might’ve temporarily placed you right at the top of his priority queue. This whole thing looks like he’s got some pretty heavy power exchange kink, and as long as your commands have to do with interfacing he’ll probably follow them.~

~What, follow them just like when I told him to extend his spike?~ Sunstreaker asked sarcastically as he traced the tape covering Soundwave’s chest in several layers. The metal beneath was hot enough that the air shimmered with it.

~That was before you showed him who’s boss. Try it.~

Doubtfully, the yellow twin focused on the telepath. “Look at me,” he ordered.

And Soundwave’s optics reignited, so charged that they were nearly white.

Sunstreaker cocked his head in giddy surprise. “Knees up, heels to your aft.”

And Soundwave obeyed.

Oh, this had potential. Definite potential. Such obedience should be rewarded.

Sunstreaker smirked. That, and he doubted Soundwave would make it through the valve examination otherwise.

The continuous requests of the filaments to bond with his valve lining, were distractingly pleasurable. But two could play that game. Clenching his calipers in rippling patterns, he sent pulses to the individual scanning rings. Instead of having them on the perma-setting for the full measurements, he activated them in short bursts. Each scan took less than a microklik, sending out an electromagnetic wave and calculating the exact shape of the spike inside from the way the electromagnetics were reflected. And Soundwave kept holding still, but he was starting to tremble, his optics flaring so much that it was a miracle he hadn’t burned through any diodes yet.

Finally, Sunstreaker whispered the command: “Move.”

And Soundwave went wild. Although Sunstreaker’s lubricant wasn’t as conductive as Soundwave’s, the electromagnetic fields transmitted straight into the sensory filaments, and the telepath was bucking up into him in ecstasy. Just good that Sunstreaker was already done with the real scan -- he was much too distracted by the way the filaments stroked his valve sensors in just the right way.

With a groan, he let himself enjoy the full charge, riding Soundwave’s spike with abandon.

It took less than a klik for the telepath to overload, and his transfluid joined Sunstreaker’s lubricant. The effect was... interesting. Sunstreaker barely had time to brace himself before somehow the mixture of liquids conducted the electricity of Soundwave’s overload right through the microfilaments and straight into every square zinch of Sunstreaker’s valve.

He shouted as he convulsed in surprise, grinding himself into the communicator’s interface panel in a desperate search for _more_. Uncontrolled bursts of both overload and scanning energy charged back and forth between them inside the depth of Sunstreaker’s valve, extending it into an incredible rush.

But eventually, the charge was burned off, and Sunstreaker could grin down at Soundwave’s dazed facial plates with his fans running high. “That was a nice one. But, no rest for the wicked. We aren’t finished yet. Spread your legs.”

~That’s not fair! And what about me?~ Sideswipe pouted, his aroused frustration as clear as duraglass to Sunstreaker. His twin had caught the full brunt over the bond, but without any physical stimulation he hadn’t quite managed to follow over.

There was no time for Sunstreaker to indulge him yet, though. He sent some calming waves through their bond, laced with devious promise and leeching off some of the arousal so that the red mech could think a bit more clearly again. ~Don’t worry, Sides, you’ll get your overload. You’ll see. Just let me do his valve, and I’ll have him as tame as a newsparked turbo fox.~

The answering growl was more vibration than sound, and spoke of untold horrors should Sunstreaker not be able to deliver. But Sideswipe settled back down to watch.

Good.

Much more coherent now that the majority of the charge was burned off, the telepath simply dead-panned up at him, “Current position: spreading legs impossible.”

Yeah, it would be pretty impossible, with the way Sunstreaker was straddling Soundwave’s waist. He smirked. “If you don’t do it, I’ll have to do it for you. And I think you’ll like my methods much less than what I did with your spike.”

After a while, Soundwave’s knees parted until his thighs hit Sunstreaker’s pedes and couldn’t go any further. Hah, victory. It was really quite the rush to control such a powerful Decepticon.

Sunstreaker reached behind himself, digits searching for the now-exposed valve. When he found it, it was quite thoroughly lubricated and very, very ready for use.

He smirked.

Sunstreaker extracted himself from Soundwave, finally sliding off the spike with a wet-sounding slurp. Something to clean up later. It took a bit of maneuvering to arrange himself between the communicator’s legs in a way that he could both penetrate Soundwave and hold his hips down at the same time. In the end, he laid half on top of Soundwave, braced by the telepath’s lages on both sides. The only reason their torsos didn’t touch above their interface panels was that Sunstreaker had locked his arms and braced himself on Soundwave’s hip assembly. There was no way the mech could buck up into him now. Two Seekers with one shot.

He didn’t waste any time preparing. With a careless thrust, he entered the telepath. In its simple, extended state, Sunstreaker’s spike was thin enough that even with an unlubricated valve there was no way he could hurt anyone larger than a minibot. Slick as Soundwave was, the telepath probably felt next to nothing from the thin spike.

Sunstreaker remedied that by initializing the pressurization cycle that quickly inflated his spike.

Inflatable spikes was a mod that most Companion bots had, so that they could adjust to a larger range of customer valves. Practically a prerequisite for the pleasure trade. Sunstreaker was no Companion bot, and neither was he into the pleasure trade, but he had taken inspiration from them. However, he had then expanded upon the concept until he had turned his spike into the perfect tool for his art and until even Companion bots declared him insane. Not that they had complained though when he had turned their trick on them.

Vents running hot, he remained seated inside Soundwave while his spike slowly grew until its incredibly flexible exterior had contoured itself to every single nook and cranny. Just filling, not exerting any pressure against the valve walls. The armor filaments liked that very much, bonding to the thin spike lining in prickling pleasure.

Carefully, he held still and began the measurement process of the valve in its relaxed state.

Thousands of sensors made him aware of the exact dimensions his spike was occupying. The inflatable balloon surface of his spike was malleable enough that he had a resolution of a hundred microzinches, enabling him to feel out the valve down to the individual lubricant spenders. Sure, a medical scan could have told him the same, but that wouldn't be nearly as much fun. Also, to get medical-grade scanning equipment he'd have had to get himself a medical license, plus an extensive frame overhaul to support the power-intensive and bulky mods. The license would have been easy to forge, but the sheer size of the scanners was very off-putting. There was no way to install them without upgrading out of his sleek racer aesthetics.

No. His spike was his tool of choice, and it worked to full satisfaction with all but the largest mechs.

And Soundwave, as it seemed. With the amount of microfilaments lining the telepath's valve, he just couldn't get the resolution to see the lubrication openings. He scowled, the charge in his lines forcing vibrations of anger-arousal into his fields. Maybe it would get better once the walls were stretched.

Servos clenching at Soundwave's hip, he initialized the second inflation process. Before, he had only pumped air from his venting system into his spike. Now he was replacing it with hydraulic fluid, slowly filtering out the air while liquid filled the many-layered compartments of the spike’s cavernous body. While gases were ideal for careful contouring like he had just done, they were just too easily compressed. That would make testing out valve limits a long and tedious, and most importantly, inaccurate procedure.

The custom mod to be able to pump up his spike on two different kind of mediums – and still be capable of using it like a normal spike, no matter the size – had been inordinately expensive, topped only by his valve. But he was the best, and to get the best results, he needed the best equipment.

It hadn’t failed him a single time yet.

Gradually, the pressure grew, and Soundwave’s fans audibly switched on again. The telepath's valve calipers were cycling most enthusiastically in a ripple-like pattern that aided the hydraulic fluid flow from the base of the spike to the tip compartments. Not to mention that it felt damn good with the soft microfilaments bonding and unbonding all along his surface.

Sideswipe was still holding down Soundwave's wrists, stroking the telepath's arm and shoulder seams in a deceptively light manner. But his attention was riveted on Soundwave's vents that had opened fully, on Sunstreaker remaining motionless inside the valve. If Sideswipe's fields hadn't given it away, the molten arousal pouring across their bond would have told Sunstreaker that his twin was imagining himself in Soundwave's position. Of course Sunstreaker had tried out the mods on his twin first, so Sideswipe knew exactly what it felt like to have his valve being taken to its limits. And through their twin bond, so did Sunstreaker.

He grinned and rested most of his weight on his servos to keep Soundwave's hips still. It was important for correct measurement data to have as little movement as possible. And if it concentrated the pleasure to new heights, that was only a bonus.

The pressure continued growing. Thirty bar and rising. With many mechs, that was about it for stretching. However, Soundwave's valve continued giving in the linear manner that suggested he hadn't reached maximum expansion yet. So Sunstreaker kept upping the ante. The calipers were gradually stopping their cycling, stretched too far to still be able to contract. Frag, it was starting to become visible from the outside.

“Mutual agreement: no injury allowed,” Soundwave finally said. His vocals were laced with static, nearly swallowed by the noise of his roaring fans.

Seemed like Soundwave was quite aware of his valve specs. Sunstreaker had kept careful track of the pressure gradient. The flattening of the slope – more and more pressure needed for less and less expansion – suggested that he had indeed reached the limits. With a smirk he pushed that tiny bit further, until first error warnings had to pop up in Soundwave's processors. Only then did he stop, right on the edge between pain and pleasure, and with his spike so large that Soundwave’s abdominal plating was visibly distended.

Judging by the hitch in the telepath's fields, Sunstreaker had calculated right and the overstretch gave Soundwave that little extra kick that made all the difference between 'great' and ‘fragging awesome'.

Then he let the measurement cycle kick in, the tiny charge of it crawling up gradually along the surface of his spike. It reflected on every valve microfilament, even flattened to the walls as they were. Soundwave's fields gleamed from electric pleasure, his fans kicking up a notch. The tingling was incredibly arousing, and Sunstreaker had to explicitly direct his charge into data gathering instead of overloading. The way it slowly ascended was very processor-distracting.

When the charge hit the tip, right against where the innermost node lay for most mechs, Sunstreaker discovered without a doubt that Soundwave's valve contained some sensory filaments after all.

The noise the telepath made was unearthly. If Sunstreaker hadn't held him down at his hip assemblies, the mech would have bucked into him as hard as his fields did. Sideswipe had his servos full restraining Soundwave's arms as the telepath keened in ecstasy beyond ecstasy while the measurement charge hit the exquisitely sensitive fibers.

Sunstreaker couldn't help but think that Prowl with his electromagnet-themed interface equipment would be the ideal partner for Soundwave.

Three nanokliks later, the scan was finished and the charge dispersed. From the feel of the communicator's fields, it left Soundwave right on the edge of overload.

Excellent.

Sunstreaker grinned, pulling back all arousal from his electromagnetics so that he could achieve a dry, business-like tone as he began the deflation cycle of his spike. “Excellent. I am done with the measurements; thank you for your cooperation and have a nice orn.”

He mentally patted himself on the back as it took Soundwave nearly half a klik to realize what was going on and send a static-drenched _//question / what / please / continue / more//_.

Sunstreaker had trouble not to let his glee escape into his fields while his spike continued deflating. Otherwise, even dazed as he was, the communicator would never believe his words. “You already had your overload. The measurements are finished, which means I have fulfilled my part of the contract. If you want another overload, you have to let Sideswipe join in.”

Soundwave's affirmation glyphs were poetic in a way Sunstreaker hadn't thought the blunt, taciturn mech capable of. They spoke of undisguised need and willingness to cooperate with pretty much anything they could come up with.

~See, I got him to give you practically carte blanche to do whatever you want,~ Sunstreaker purred over the bond.

Unfettered arousal spilled back to him. ~Finally! Let me have his valve? I want to find out what you did to make him scream like that.~

Sunstreaker grinned slyly. ~I think I’ve got a better idea. He’s stretched enough that you’ll fit in, too.~

Sideswipe nearly overloaded on the spot. ~Frag YES!~

Without warning, Sunstreaker used his grip on Soundwave’s hips to roll them over onto their sides. The telepath struggled a bit at first, but a harsh “Hold still!” kept him under control. It took some rearranging of leg assemblies that ended up with the telepath’s top leg over Sunstreaker’s waist, but then there was enough space for Sideswipe to spoon himself against Soundwave from behind.

~I’m not gonna let go of the cuffs, so you got to help me,~ the red twin sent as he wrapped his free arm around the carrier’s bulky chest for some leverage.

Sunstreaker grunted and wormed his servo between their joined legs. Gripping Sideswipe’s extended spike was nearly as familiar as handling his own. He guided it harshly towards Soundwave’s valve, knowing just how much his twin got off on a bit of rough handling. Two of his digits steadied the spike, while the other two caught the valve rim and tried to open it a bit more for easier intrusion. Soundwave just groaned and trembled in an attempt to hold still.

~Push.~

Sideswipe slid in as smoothly as if they had practiced the move a hundred times. Sunstreaker grinned. He had deflated his spike enough that it was still a tight fit, but not so tight that his twin couldn’t enter.

Soundwave, caught between them, just opened his armor plates further in an overheated hiss of ecstasy. His vents were blowing hot air at them, getting the heat reflected straight back at him. They were probably all shimmering from the charge running through them. Sunstreaker had to dig his servo into Soundwave’s hips to hold still -- whether himself or the mech, he wasn’t quite sure. As far gone as the telepath was, he actually seemed to appreciate the little prick of pain.

The calipers rippled frantically around their spikes, and Sideswipe used the off-cycles to push forward in waves. And then his twin was as far in as he could go, panel nearly touching Sunstreaker’s, spikes squeezed so tight together that every single quiver of Soundwave’s valve set of bursts of fireworks.

“Frag, that’s good,” Sideswipe groaned against Soundwave’s heated back as the filaments were trying to bond to his spike, too. “Friction or ‘tricity?”

~Why not both?~

Neither of them knew which one the thought originated from, but then they were moving against each other, inside Soundwave’s valve, and on every thrust Sunstreaker flared his measurement electrodes. Against Sideswipe’s spike, the charge was a slight tingle. Against the armor-bonding fibers, it was an insidious crawl of prickling static. Against Soundwave’s sensory filaments, it was a shot of ecstasy straight to the processors.

The telepath’s valve convulsed with every thrust, and the mech quivered helplessly between them. He just couldn’t quite decide which one of them to buck into, because as soon as something of an impulse was reached, they reversed direction again.

“You will not overload before we have,” Sunstreaker growled, but he wasn’t sure how much the Decepticon had actually understood. Soundwave was nearing dangerous levels of overheating, and his entire frame was sparking with electricity.

Luckily, none of them would last very long. There had been too much charge going around already for things to go any way but a swift explosion. Their twin bond sizzled with the arousal they channeled back and forth, quickly reducing them to the same state of Soundwave.

With a keen and a strong pull against the cuffs Sideswipe was holding behind his helmet, Soundwave finally burst first. Just like when the telepath had been inside Sunstreaker’s valve, the strong electroconductivity of Soundwave’s lubricant plus the armor-bonding microfilaments channeled the discharge straight into the twins’ spikes. The telepath dragged them down into one pit of a shared overload, arcs racing over all three of them as they convulsed into each other.

It was pure ecstasy as they screamed garbled static into the winds and dug their claws into each other, dropping offline nearly at the same instant.

Sunstreaker was the first one to reboot. He quickly deflated his spike and pulled out, extracting himself from Soundwave’s frame. With a slight scowl, he took in the blue color that had rubbed off on his yellow finish, but at least a quick buffing with a polishing rag from his subspace removed the colors - and the signs of their messy interface.

His twin was still dazed, but now that things were over it would be best to hurry away before Soundwave regained his full faculties.

“Come on!” Sunstreaker waved impatiently in the direction they had to leave in.

Sideswipe groaned and finally pulled out of Soundwave’s still quivering valve, hissing with the charge the reluctant microfilaments generated. The telepath was starting to reboot, and they really didn’t want him to get any funny ideas.

As something of a peace offering, Sideswipe pulled out a rag from his subspace and quickly wiped the spilled fluids off the Decepticon before tending to his own spike. Soundwave seemed to accept it, because there were no hacking attempts. Instead, the telepath continued his slow and thorough reboot.

“Query: remove restraints?” Soundwave finally asked, voice back to his monotone.

Sideswipe snorted as he wiped away the last of the lubricant and the transfluid. “No way. I'm not stupid enough to let you go so that you can go after us. You can free yourself.”

The telepath cocked his head, the last of the reboot daze leaving him. “Stasis cuffs: yours.”

“Keep them as a souvenir,” Sideswipe laughed as he, too peeled away and left Soundwave's bound frame behind, all alone.

They made it back to the outpost with no ambush, no being pursued by Soundwave, no hacking attempts. None were the wiser as they slipped into their quarters and disengaged AMI. Sideswipe could already feel Sunstreaker load all the data he had gotten from the measurement, descending into that space where his creative urge took over. His twin didn’t even stop to refuel before starting on his next painting.

Sideswipe grinned, still high on the excitement of having tangled with such a dangerous Decepticon, and having gotten away scot-free.

Patrol with Sunstreaker the next orn was going to be much easier now.

– – –

“Ravage: return.”

The black and silver symbiont melted seamlessly out of the shadows he had hidden inside. His colors were perfect camouflage in nearly any environment, and his intrinsic stealth did the rest. The Autobots hadn't had the slightest idea that they had been watched. Nor that their entire encounter with Soundwave had been staged. It had been only too easy to spot them leaving their outpost and to track them through the Great Metal Plains. The only difficulties had laid in Soundwave arriving in time to arrange the meeting, and ensuring no one disturbed them. Much planning had gone into that.

The symbiont that many thought to be nothing more than a technimal, stared down at his carrier's prone form.

“You got what you wanted?” Ravage growled as he carefully used his claws to shred the tape covering Soundwave's transformation seams.

“Affirmative. All goals: met. Sunstreaker's reputation: not exaggerated; painting expected in close future. Added bonus: reproduction of Prime Housing promised.”

Ravage paused, most of his weight resting on the two paws he had on his carrier's chest. His optics met Soundwave's visor, claws pricking through the tape into surface plating. “And you think he will keep his end of the deal?”

“Telepathic scan: revealed no intention to deceive. Character analysis: proud, vain, prioritizes art above factions.”

Ravage snarled as he took out his irritation on the black adhesive. “You gave them more information than necessary.” A flurry of _bound-helpless-pleasure_ flooded the bond, together with Ravage's disapproval of it. Not of the fact that Soundwave found being restrained arousing, but that he had given away such a weakness to Autobots.

“Calculations: safer than revealing interface preference to Decepticon. Twins will not talk. Will keep incident private. Otherwise, would give away disobedience of orders. Ravage: finished?”

The harsh rumble of Ravage's engine said that he wasn't finished by far, but he chose not to pursue things any further. Instead, he got off his carrier’s frame so that Soundwave could sit up. “Yes.”

With a slight grinding sound as the symbiont had only been able to slice the tape instead of peel it off, Soundwave's docks transformed open. “Frenzy, Rumble: eject.”

The two cassettes came tumbling out into Soundwave's lap, still heated from the intensity of the overload they had experienced through their docks. “Wow, boss, that was some seriously kinky stuff!”

Soundwave ignored their comments and instead held out his bound wrists to them. “Frenzy: remove tape. Rumble: open stasis cuffs. Preserve function, if possible.”

The mech-like symbionts stared. “You really wanna keep the cuffs?”

“Affirmative. Calculated psychological impact of using them on twins upon next capture: great.”

Rumble and Frenzy exchanged a glance and got to work.

“If you say so, boss. If you say so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here's some links of pics I worked with for Soundwave's and Sunstreaker's equipment:
> 
>  
> 
> [Soundwave's spike (velvety look)](http://www.plexos.de/Fauna-Flora/Flora-Moos-238F.jpg)  
> [Soundwave's spike (colors)](http://www.canadiannaturephotographer.com/Groundscapes/_DSC7161.jpg)  
> [Soundwave's valve](http://jungenbund-phoenix.de/sites/default/files/website/moos.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> [Sunstreaker's valve](http://24.media.tumblr.com/5305b8de1eb0012ae6b46a4352ba7784/tumblr_mfyytjPPgC1rlaporo1_500.jpg) (Thank you so much, [femme4jack](http://archiveofourown.org/users/femme4jack/pseuds/femme4jack), for that pic!)  
> [Sunstreaker's spike (longitudinal section)](http://www.mbd2.com/forum/balloon_Animal_Blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/Corn.png) (WARNING: seriously cracky picture XD)


End file.
